Frozen Truths
by LadyLuckRogue
Summary: A/U Story: Empires are complex things to run but the Cold clan has it particularly hard. Years after the empire was split in four, a situation is brewing due to Frieza's decision to destroy the Saiyans. While Frieza attempts to mold Vegeta in his own image, Frieza's sister Krystal ensures the survival of another group of Saiyans. Follows the cannon timeline with a twist.
1. Prologue

AN: This story is the product of months of collaboration and work. I couldn't have written this without my brother (cmpunk666) and his girlfriend (ragingspirit90) who both came up with as much of this as I did. This story grew from a 'wouldn't it be cool if' idea into the monster story it's become. I sincerely hope you all will enjoy this story as much as we've enjoyed brainstorming ideas and developing the many OCs you will find in here.

I've done my best to stick to name puns for all the OCs in Akira Toriyama style even if we had to get creative. I'll do my best to throw the translations up at the beginning of the chapters.

Akulli-ice in Albanian

Zjarro-fire in Albanian

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z in any way shape or form. I do, however, own the OCs.

A huge shout out and thank you to flamingpoetic for beta-ing this and for moral support and encouragement! Go read her story _The Mistaken Wish_ on .

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The surface of the planet Akulli was barren and bleak. Wind howled across the surface, unstopped by anything other than the occasional rock or hill. The landscape was familiar and comforting to its inhabitants—barren, bleak and inhospitable as their original desert home world.

It was a cold and desolate place, the sky a purplish blue. The air was dry and thin and there was very little cloud cover. Occasionally, clouds drifted overhead and rarely a thin dusting of frozen water would coat the world, giving the planet a sort of deadly beauty.

The Palace of Remembrance had been built when the Akulli had risen above their banishment to the icy rock thousands of years ago, and remained a symbol of perseverance against the Zjarro and their own biology. The Akulli had never been meant to survive the banishment to this place. The temperature change alone should have proven fatal. There had been a great many losses, one that the species had never quite recovered from, but those who had survived in spite of everything. Subsequent generations had adapted so much that they only superficially resembled the race they'd once been. They hadn't stopped there. Once their own world was conquered, the Akulli had become rulers of the galaxy.

Within the walls of the palace, a rare meeting was occurring to ensure the continued prosperity of an empire that spanned the entire galaxy. The outcome had the potential to strengthen ties or break them. With many different personalities gathered around the table, things weren't going as smoothly as hoped, but no wars had broken out. Yet.

A large table had been arranged where the five Akulli rulers were comfortably seated. Their various guards and staff were not given the same luxury and were required to remain standing for the duration of the meeting. They stood in groups, still dressed in a variety of cold weather gear, quietly talking amongst themselves while the bickering occurred.

Zarbon, Frieza's second in command, watched Frieza's face go from bored annoyance to contempt at everything Cooler was saying. His tail was already lashing dangerously behind him; it wouldn't be too long before Frieza lost it. Cooler had a point to what he was saying, though Zarbon would never utter the words. At the head of the table, King Cold lounged in his seat, only half listening. The leader of the Planet Trade was far too into his cups to particularly care at this point, but that wasn't anything unusual. Zarbon resisted giving a shake of his head in amusement. If word got out that the almighty Tyrant himself was more of a drunk these days than a leader, worlds would burn. The true power seemed to lie with the one Akulli who hadn't said a word as of yet.

Zarbon turned his eyes towards Queen Cold. Whatever her true name had once been was as mysterious as the scars that laced her pale skin. She was an intimidating figure decked with her armor and jewelry. He'd never seen an Akulli female wear such ornaments, but he was sure it had to do with flaunting her status. She did it because she could. Even though she hadn't spoken, her eyes seemed to be taking in every detail of the meeting. She was more than likely taking notes to use later. Rumor had it that King Cold had become nothing more than a puppet figurehead, and after seeing what he had today, he believed it. Those ruby-colored eyes so similar to Frieza's met his, making his skin crawl and he looked away. Frieza was by far one of the most evil, twisted beings that the universe had ever seen, and his mother made him seem almost normal by comparison.

The sound of Frieza's voice snapped Zarbon to the present.

"So, what you are insinuating then is that I am purposely disregarding trade agreements?" Frieza asked, his voice causing Zarbon to tense.

Cooler leveled his glare at Frieza. Whoever had thought that seating them across from each other was a good idea needed to be killed.

"I am not insinuating anything, Frieza. I am telling you. When my ships cross your borders, they get boarded and harassed. Your governors of your outer territories aren't acting on their own ideas—most of them are too stupid for that." He practically snarled.

Frieza waved a hand dismissively. "How am I to control what one or two bored outer rim governors do on a daily basis? There is much more to my empire than that."

"They boarded with troops, and it's more than one or two. It doesn't matter which point of the border my ships cross. They loose valuable time or they face confiscation of wares, which does affect more than just trade. Can you even fathom how many complaints I have at the moment?"

"Perhaps, then, you should realize anything confiscated is prohibited in the boundaries of my empire." Frieza pointed out.

"Hardly the point, considering my ships are passing through on their way to Krystal's sector. When the manifest states they are not delivering in your territory, your men shouldn't bother my ships. Your ridiculous prohibitions to keep your people under your thumb aren't my concern. This is why we have trade agreements with regulations."

A female voice broke through the arguing. Krystal, the middle child of King Cold, was not amused by Frieza's antics as of late in the least. "Maybe the best solution to this would be if your ships passed through Father's territory instead of Frieza's." Krystal stated, examining a data pad. "Considering the report you have, Cooler, the increase of fuel costs would even out to the loss of time and the cost of the confiscated wares." Krystal's blue eyes met Frieza's in defiance.

While the two resembled each other superficially, Krystal's coloring was off. Instead of pale white skin like the rest of her family, her black skin was a throwback to the Akulli's Zjarron ancestry. It wasn't just her physical appearance that differentiated her from the rest of her family, either, it was her demeanor and her view of the universe. Unlike the others, Krystal didn't have a power-hungry or evil bone in her body. Her empire was run in a way that the universe hadn't seen in millennia. It was thriving and wasn't surrounded by a constant shroud of death and destruction. With the exception of maybe Cooler, Krystal was the only sane one of the bunch.

"There you go, flaunting your perfect little ideals." Frieza sneered, "Your Empire is going to burn and you'll go crying to one of us when it happens."

Krystal shrugged nonchalantly, "Perhaps, but that's hardly the point, is it little brother? The point we were discussing is your unwillingness to stick to trade agreements that have been in place for years because you can't control your grudge against me. I was merely offering a solution that would make everyone happy. Trade ships can arrive on time and you don't have to worry about them passing through your territory."

Zarbon took a step back as Frieza's tale lashed and he jumped to his feet.

A loud bang echoed through the room before Frieza lunged towards Krystal.

King Cold was on his feet, his fist had left a crack in the stone table. "Enough squabbling. We're here to work out grievances, not create more. I believe that issue is concluded for now, unless you have anything to add." He glanced at Cooler.

"It will have to do for now, but this conversation is far from over." Cooler agreed, with a glare towards Frieza.

King Cold's glance went to Frieza, who nodded.

King Cold made a gesture towards one of his many servants, waving toward his empty cup. The trembling creature poured more wine, miraculously not spilling a drop and slunk back into the shadows. The King of the Akulli took a long sip before gesturing towards Frieza once more.

"Now, I believe you had some sort of problem going on with those flea-ridden simpletons you enjoy using as ki fodder." King Cold commented dismissively.

Zarbon watched as Frieza rose to his feet once more, pacing agitatedly back and forth. The others around the table knew this problem and knew it well. A situation had been brewing for years, and it was Frieza's biggest thorn in his side. Cooler's expression turned to that of agitated boredom, while Krystal exchanged a look with her adviser.

"I've handed the Saiyans an ultimatum. If they do not comply, they will be purged. They've sent their support over the years in the form of auxiliary troops, but their loyalties are questionable at best." Frieza started.

"Aren't they some of your best troops? Do you think it's smart to wipe out the species?" Cooler asked pragmatically, trying to wrap his mind around what Frieza was saying.

Frieza gave a nod, "They are. However, there are no treaties in place. Planet Vegeta is not a part of the Planet Trade and therefore not under the same rules. Since the troops are merely auxiliary, they can technically be recalled at any time. This has been a problem in the past but the biggest problem is the fact that the King has been stalling for five years now on having a meeting about it. I've given him my terms, and he will comply or face purging. I've been rather lenient and patient about the whole thing, but I'm through with playing games."

"And how exactly do you plan on ensuring that they stick to the terms you set up?" Krystal asked.

Frieza's smile indicated he had everything planned out. "By taking a hostage. The Crown Prince of Vegeta is apparently the strongest warrior ever born to the species. Under my tutelage, he'll grow strong and loyal and when he takes the throne, I won't have to worry about petty disagreements."

Zarbon felt a chill at the words. Frieza was planning to mold the young Prince in his image then. He'd of course known of the plan, but to hear Frieza say it with such nonchalance as if he were merely discussing the weather was a bit disturbing. Despite all the things Zarbon had witnessed and done over the years, despite the horrors and atrocities—or maybe because of them—he couldn't help but feel pity for the child. If the child survived to adulthood in Frieza's care, he shuddered to think of the result.

Krystal seemed to be sharing Zarbon's thoughts by the grimace that crossed her features. "Even if you take the child as a hostage, what if the Saiyans don't remain loyal?" She asked. The Saiyans were a proud race, and she found it hard to believe that they would sway so easily under another's rule. This situation was turning into a mess that would more than likely have serious consequences for much of Frieza's territory. If he set the Saiyan homeworld to burn for merely failing to bow to him completely, she wasn't sure it would send a message of fear big enough to quell the rest of his sector. The Saiyans' loyalty would have essentially meant nothing over the years, and there would be revolutions.

"If the Saiyans break the agreement, they will be eradicated." Frieza said with finality.

King Cold raised a hand. "I understand your reasoning, son, but at the same time you may be getting ahead of yourself. Before you work yourself up, perhaps you should see exactly what the outcome of this meeting is. When is it?" He asked, his voice was somewhat slurred, but he had been surprisingly coherent during most of the meeting.

Frieza seemed somewhat taken aback by King Cold's diplomatic response. "Two weeks. They have two weeks to set up the handover of Prince Vegeta."

Before King Cold could respond, the door to the throne room burst open. A bipedal reptilian creature dressed in the armor of King Cold's guard ran into the room out of breath. Before he could even bow a blast of ki hit him square in the abdomen. The guard crumpled coughing blood, his glazed eyes denoting his death.

"I said no interruptions!" King Cold shouted, causing his the entire room to flinch and look towards King Cold. Only the queen smiled slightly at this, waving one of the servants to drag the corpse away.

Zarbon had to hide his dark amusement at Frieza's reaction. How many times had Frieza done the exact same thing to one poor soldier or another over the years? Honestly, Zarbon didn't keep track.

"I believe we have your situation all sorted out then, Frieza." King Cold stated, never missing a beat.

A moment or two more passed before the sound of a scouter chiming broke through the low muttering in the room. All eyes focused on Salza, Cooler's right hand man. He took a step back, turning his head to answer the transmission. After a moment, he leaned towards Cooler handing the scouter to him. Cooler looked surprised but trusted that it had to be an emergency. He listened to the transmission for a moment or two, his eyes flicking from Frieza to King Cold and cut the transmission.

Cooler couldn't help the look of cold amusement that crossed his features as he met King Cold's gaze. "Apparently the guard you just killed was sent to tell you that the base in Zchurca has been destroyed and that there is apparently an attack fleet heading this way."

King Cold's eyes widened and he rose to his feet, "Who would dare?" He bellowed. "Where are the ships coming from?"

"Zjarro." Cooler stated simply. "Casualties are rather high. The base is rubble and one of Frieza's ships has taken a hit as well." He glanced towards Frieza, "Your Commander you left in charge is apparently injured. Dodoria, I believe."

Frieza's eyes widened in rage.

"This meeting is adjourned." King Cold snarled, all traces of the wine he consumed gone. "Frieza, with me."

"Take command of the flagship, Zarbon." Frieza ordered over his shoulder as took off after King Cold.

The room erupted into a flurry of noise and movement as the various groups began to leave the room. Zarbon barked out the orders for Frieza's remaining staff to report directly to the flagship as he started going through scouter transmissions, trying to gauge the situation. He startled when a hand touched his shoulder, turning to see the identical features of his brother's face. They looked identical with the exception of clothing. Zarbon preferred his hair long and dressed in the traditional manner of his home world. Zaidon had long ago given up wearing the traditional jewelry and clothing and dressed in the common soldier's uniform of Krystal's forces. His hair was cut to shoulder length and simply pulled back.

"Zaidon, you startled me."

A look of amusement crossed the other man's face. "I wasn't able to speak to you before the meeting, but it's good to see you. You look like hell though. No rest for the wicked, eh?"

"Something along those lines." Zarbon sighed. From what he gathered, there was chaos out there. Chaos that he was sure would get worse at the interference of both Frieza and King Cold. Apparently the Zjarro had waited thousands of years to seek their retribution in a long-forgotten conflict. The base on the moon of Akulli was gone, as well as some of King Cold's fleet. Frieza's main battle cruiser was crippled and leaking atmosphere. Dodoria had apparently ordered it right into firing range, and honestly, Zarbon wasn't surprised.

"How are things on your end?" Zarbon tried to keep the bitter tone out of his voice, but there were times when he envied Zaidon. Zaidon worked for Krystal, and though his job came with its own unique stresses, Zarbon felt he had gotten the shit end of the deal.

"Busy. We have our own problems at the moment. There have been a number of rebellions cropping up and we think we've located the source. I'll be heading there shortly to try and quell them," Zaidon said quietly.

Zarbon looked at him with interest. Apparently his brother did more than paperwork on a daily basis. Interesting. "You'll have to tell me all about it. I have a flagship to take command of and a group of panicking idiots on a crippled ship to talk down before they do something beyond stupid. It was good to see you."

Zaidon gave him a smile. "You as well. Keep in touch."

Zarbon watched him walk back to where Krystal was with a look of envy. Things seemed so calm in his world, and once again, he wondered what grievance he'd committed in a past life to deserve this.

As he situated his breather mask on his face and wrapped his cloak around him to make his way out of the palace, his scouter squawked to life.

He recognized the code and let out a sigh, "Yes, Lord Frieza?"

"Zarbon, where the hell are you? I need you to get the ship situation under control now!"

Zarbon rolled his eyes, knowing Frieza couldn't see him and feeling remarkably brave about that fact. "Of course."

No rest for the wicked indeed.

It hadn't been more than a few hours since their entourage had gotten back to the ship when Zaidon's scouter began to signal that he had an incoming message. The transmission was encrypted, and he wasn't sure who would contact him from an encrypted line.

"Zaidon speaking," he answered.

"I need to speak to Krystal at once." The female voice demanded rather than asked.

Zaidon raised a finely groomed eyebrow at the tone, recognizing the person on the other end instantly. There were very few who had that kind of audacity.

"Ah, Aglia, always a pleasure. The Empress is a very busy person."

"Cut the bullshit, Zaidon. I don't have time for your posturing. She is expecting this transmission and you know it." The voice shot back with a surprising amount of venom.

Zaidon rolled his eyes at the lack of humor on the other end. He supposed stress did that to someone, but he had an impression Aglia was just high strung in general.

He made his way across the room from his office to the table where Krystal was seated, going over charts with one of her science officers. She glanced to Zaidon and he motioned to the scouter, handing it to her.

"It's Aglia, with all her usual charm." He stated mockingly.

"Zaidon," Krystal said warningly, though with no real threat.

Krystal placed the scouter on her face. "Aglia, I was going to contact you. I have news."

"Good or bad?" Aglia asked, coming straight to the point.

"Not great. There wasn't anything I could do. Nothing has changed." Krystal answered in vague code. The transmission was encrypted, but Aglia's contact to her put her life on the line, and they couldn't take chances.

There was a weary sigh from the other end. "It's all up to how well we manage things now. Great."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more, but this has been coming for a long time. I don't have the kind of clout needed to stop it," Krystal stated, unable to keep the sympathy out of her voice.

"I know. The contingency plan. Is it still valid?"

Krystal paused, remember the plan she'd discussed in person with Aglia, almost two years before. It had seemed like such a vague threat at the time. She'd made the offer, never thinking anything of it. The possibility seemed more real now.

"Yes. You have my word on my throne." Krystal answered solemnly.

"Thank you. Your honor will not be forgotton." Krystal could have sworn she heard the emotion in Aglia's voice, which she'd never thought would have happened. Maybe it was just the encryption messing with the frequency.

"I wish you well Aglia." Krystal stated simply, cutting the transmission. She handed the scouter back to Zaidon with a cryptic smile.

"So it begins."


	2. Chapter 1

AN: Thanks for the reviews and support for this story! I love the enthusiasm, and I appreciate it. It's always a little nerve wracking to post a story and when you have one like this, where there is so much that has to be introduced before it kicks off…I hope all of you will stick with me J Vegeta will be introduced this chapter, as will a few other characters. I hope you like them. Once again, a huge thanks to my brother and ragingspirit90 for their help in making this possible. Also a huge thank you to flamingpoetic for her support and beta skills. I'd be lost without you :D

Quick notes: One Saiyan lunar cycle equals around 3 Earth years. Made sense to me that they'd measure things with the moon, seeing as they are so linked to it.

Units- a temperature measurement in the Planet Trade. You didn't think they used degrees did you? ~.^

Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ...nope, not me. It belongs to the great Akira Toriyama :) I do however own the original characters in this. Please be gentle to them

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The blood red sky of Planet Vegeta was ominously dark and heavy with storm clouds. They built out of seemingly nowhere and crackled with electricity, as if the skies themselves were angry at the developments down below in the city, the palace in particular. There was no rain to quench the parched ground below—only fiercely howling wind, lightning and dust. The Saiyans were a hearty warrior race, used to the heat and dirt of their desert planet with its two suns; however, most of them were rushing about the city, trying to escape the fury of the weather. Even Saiyans had their limits.

Inside the palace, the royal family was sheltered from the ugly turn the weather had taken, but they had their own concerns. Only the young prince, just past his second lunar cycle, looked out at the storm longingly. He desperately wanted to get out of the tension-filled throne room. His father, mother, and various aides and consultants were in a frenzy of documents and discussion, and for good reason. Frieza, part of the Cold clan and self-proclaimed Emperor of the Planet Trade Organization, would arrive shortly to discuss treaty terms with the Saiyan Empire. The feeling was not optimistic. The only person in the room who was seemingly oblivious was the princess Zelena, who was nearing her first lunar cycle. Her most immediate and pressing concern happened to be sneaking up on her brother.

Prince Vegeta was too wrapped up watching the lightening dance across the sky to notice the small girl stalking up behind him silently, his waving tail making a fun target for the girl. She finally got with in reach and pounced, grabbing the tail and chomping as hard as she could. The Prince let out an undignified howl, trying to bat her away.

"Get off of me, you little monster," he snarled, getting nothing but a giggle from the toddler.

The Queen glanced up at the scene, her sharp black eyes taking it in, "No blood in the throne room, the floors were just polished." She warned, earning a chuckle from a few of the aides.

Prince Vegeta managed to dislodge the Princess from his tail, who was still snickering. "You sounded like a faresh pup," she tittered.

Vegeta growled and launched himself toward her, "I'll show you who squeals, you little brat!"

With that, the chase around the throne room was on, though they avoided the main area the adults occupied. Suddenly as they made a pass around the front of the room, the main door opened and a large figure stepped through. The Princess managed to slide around one of the giant legs, but Vegeta was unable to change direction fast enough, and he collided into it.

"Easy there, Prince," the large Saiyan said, reaching a steadying hand down to the boy, who snarled and batted the hand away.

"Don't touch me, Nappa!"

The King rose to his feet and started towards Nappa, who saluted, fist over his heart. "King Vegeta, Frieza's ship will be landing in two hours. The space port is secure and all preparations have been made as ordered."

The King nodded wearily watching as the two glowering children picked themselves up off the floor.

"Join us at the table Nappa. We have some last minute details to go over." Nappa nodded and the King leveled his gaze on Vegeta. "And you let yourself get bested by a small child, not to mention your lack of speed and maneuverability when you ran into Nappa. I expect you'll be more diligent in your training from now on. A prince cannot be made a fool of." He said sternly, ignoring the squeak of protest of said small child at being called such.

Vegeta lowered his eyes to the floor, and nodded. "It won't happen again." His eyes were defiant, and he clenched his jaw angrily, although he refused to make eye contact with the King and openly defy him.

"See that it does not," the King replied with a nod. "Take your sister to the kitchens and be back within the hour."

Vegeta nodded, grabbing Zelena by the back of her armor to pull her along, walked out of the throne room, his back straight, the only sign of his agitation the twitch of his tail and the simmering burn of anger in his eyes.

The King joined the others at the table and met the disapproving gaze of Queen Aglia.

"Something to say?" he all but growled in her direction.

"There are better ways to train the boy. How is he to respect you and take your lessons to heart when you hardly utter anything than scorn in his direction?"

This earned a snort from the King. "The boy is fine. He needs to learn to compose himself as the Crown Prince and not some bumbling child. If I was really so harsh to him, he wouldn't be like my shadow. I can hardly turn without him under my feet."

"He is a child. You are the one he looks up to. The idea has been practically pounded in his head from birth that he is your heir and he is trying to prove himself to you." Aglia reasoned. "The childlike adoration will wear off eventually, and he will grow to resent you if you don't tread carefully."

"I will not coddle him. My father never coddled me and I was fine with that. I grew strong—"

Aglia shook her head, "Need I remind you that you killed your father? Do you want that fate?" Her black eyes bored into his lighter ones, glittering with challenge, daring him to call her out. He looked away first, his expression settling into a stoic mask.

He glanced around at the others in the room, all of them pretending they hadn't just heard the Queen openly shut down the King. "I believe we have more important manners to discuss."

Everyone nodded in agreement and King Vegeta's expression turned grim. "Do we have any idea of the kind of terms Frieza will demand?" he asked, eying the various people, mostly members of his staff and a few technicians, all of them decidedly nervous.

"I think the usual terms are pledge of loyalty, payment of various resources, troops being stationed planet side, and then usually a hostage." Nappa stated the last part with a grimace. He'd spoken to a few contacts he had from his time as an off-world soldier. He'd been planet-bound for the last five years, but he'd maintained contact. Some of his contacts were from planets that had escaped purging and allied themselves with Frieza. He'd heard from one of them that the leader's son from that planet was taken as a political hostage to ensure the leader's good behavior.

Aglia nodded. "We knew most of that, but it's good to have it confirmed. This came from your contacts?"

"Yes," Nappa agreed.

"We already support Frieza with troops. His legions have quite a few Saiyans in their ranks," Capso, one of the Kings top military advisers, stated matter-of-factly. The large brown-haired Saiyan was a warrior of the first class who had worked his way up over the years and was well-respected for his strategic and organizational skills.

"What are the numbers like?" Nappa asked.

"Currently, we have about 1,350 off-world troops assigned to support Frieza in various capacities. On top of that we have five full purge squads, mostly third-class troops, but effective none the less."

Nappa let out a low whistle. "The numbers have really gone down then."

"They have indeed," Capso agreed. "Lord Frieza tends to favor the purge squads as of late to quell any issues. He's also stopped sending out our troops as long-range scouts in the past few years since he realized how effective the infants are on their first mission."

The Queen glanced up. "Birth rates are down though, aren't they?"

Capso gave a grim nod, "Which is why we aren't only sending third-class infants out anymore. A lot of the higher level troops have been all but ordered to send their offspring on missions as well."

"On whose authorization?" King Vegeta demanded.

Capso winced. "Once one is registered as auxiliary for Frieza, our personnel files go to his troop commanders—"

"And his commanders decide that once a child has been born they are automatically registered as an off-world troop as well." The King interrupted. "That underhanded bastard. How many first-class and elite infants have we lost to this?" he all but snarled. "And why hasn't this been brought to my attention before now?"

Capso's eyes looked haunted for a moment, and he glanced at the floor, dropping his voice when he spoke. "There is a lot of talk, Sire—discontent among the troops. Many of them fear that if too many waves are made, then we will share the same fate as the other planets that have displeased Frieza. As for return rates, we average seventy percent at best."

The King rubbed his forehead as if staving off a headache. "How am I to effectively fight for my world when I don't know what goes on with the troops? This puts me in a rather stupid situation, wouldn't you say?"

"If I may, Sire," Nappa stated. "The off-world troops like to run their mouths. They gossip more than whores in a brothel. Then you have renegade squad leaders, who like to believe they are above their station. They get a lot of respect by the sheer number of kills under their belt."

"I will take what both of you have said under advisement and address the concerns to Frieza, if I can," The King stated, motioning for a technician to take a note.

The Queen cleared her throat, "We spoke of the hostage for our good behavior. They'll take someone of higher rank, correct?"

King Vegeta sighed, "He'll demand Vegeta. Or Zelena."

Aglia's jaw clenched, "He is unaware of Zelena's existence and we agreed to keep it that way." She glanced at the floor, anger evident on her face. "This is unfair to Vegeta, but we had no way of knowing that all of this would happen when he was born. Frieza already knows of him, though I think we should try to negotiate the treaty without Vegeta's involvement." It pained her to know that her son would more than likely be taken and raised under the Akulli Emperor. They hadn't known how the situation would escalate when Vegeta had been born. The heir to the throne had drawn a lot of attention, as he was born with one of the highest power levels on record. Frieza, of course, had heard the news, and perhaps that was what had put the Saiyans on his radar in the first place. When Zelena had been born, the Queen had insisted it be kept from all records. Very few knew of the Princess's existence, and she wanted to keep it that way. Zelena was the first female Saiyan of royal blood born in 200 years. She was the ace up Aglia's sleeve, but like any plan, it would do no good to have the plan discovered before it was put into play.

She was rudely snapped out of her thoughts by the King clearing his throat rather loudly in her direction. She raised an eyebrow.

"As I was saying, we will do our best to keep the hostage-taking out of negotiations, but, at the same time, if we face purging what are we to do?" King Vegeta asked.

"I say we fight and die as a family," Aglia answered, earning mutters from the assembled counsel.

The King's expression hardened. "Vegeta will only be a hostage for a few years. You would sacrifice the entire planet to save him from getting some military training?"

Aglia clenched her jaw. "You know it won't be just that. He will be returned to us a shell of himself, and that is if he survives. Frieza's forces run rampant with disorder and chaos. Child soldiers are beaten, starved, and worse."

King Vegeta shook his head. "Vegeta is strong. The boy could use some direction and experience. He is a Saiyan; he will survive. This is my decision to make, and I have to think of what is best for my planet."

The Queen had no political power. She could only advise.

Aglia rose to her feet. "Your arrogance will be your downfall," she spat, leaving the throne room.

_#_#_#_#_#

As the young Prince made his way down the hall towards the kitchens, his younger sibling still in tow, he felt his anger simmering. How dare his father call him out for something stupid in front of everyone? It didn't make sense to him why he was always the one at blame. Nappa had practically stepped on him! Why wasn't his father berating the clumsy oaf?

He heard a snarl and felt nails dig into his arm, and he turned with a sigh, dropping his sister. She landed, rather gracelessly on her butt. She growled again and attempted to launch herself at him. He caught her, once more by her armor.

"We can do this all day." He sneered, bored with the child's antics. The smaller child glared at him from under the mop of her auburn bangs and struggled weakly.

"Can I let you down, or are you going to try to attack me again?"

"Maybe I will!" She shot back defiantly, her eyes, a shade lighter than his own, narrowed in concentration as she struggled in his grip. He had to give it to the brat—at almost one lunar cycle she was certainly a force to be reckoned with. The amount of energy she had was astounding, and she used most of it to create her own brand of mischief in whatever way suited her best.

Vegeta looked thoughtful for a moment. "That's really too bad. I guess I'll have to go eat by myself, then, after I hand you off to Lettu." Though Vegeta loved to fight, beating up on a child a full lunar cycle younger than him held no appeal. His only course of action was to get her to stop or to hand her off to her trainer.

Zelena stopped struggling almost instantly. "No, I'll stop. I want to eat!" she said with sudden enthusiasm.

Vegeta let her loose with a triumphant look, watching as the girl scrambled to her feet and brushed off her armor. He nodded his head toward the general direction of the kitchens and led the way.

After walking in silence for a minute, Vegeta felt a tug on his armor and glanced at the suddenly sullen girl beside him.

"I got you in trouble again, didn't I?" she asked seriously.

Vegeta snorted. "If you decide to get sappy, I really will go drop you off with Lettu."

"I was just asking…" Zelena answered, a trembling sort of undertone to her voice that Vegeta didn't like. He sighed and stopped walking, looking at his sister.

"Father and Mother have a lot going on at the moment. There is an Emperor coming to visit, and it isn't a good thing, Zelena. He wants to take power from Father." He tried to explain the situation the best he understood it from the conversations he'd heard the adults having. There was more to it than that. He understood that this Frieza was trying to corrupt the Saiyan way of life and that he was a creature with immeasurable power. Everyone feared him. Vegeta had heard whispers and hushed stories, and he had to admit that he too was afraid.

"Is that why Father is mad all the time?" Zelena asked furrowing her brow, trying to follow what he was saying.

Vegeta shrugged his shoulders, tugging Zelena along to resume their walk. "Maybe. He expects me to learn how to be King someday. He wants me to be strong," Vegeta explained, though he wasn't sure he quite believed the excuse himself. There were times where he didn't quite understand his Father.

Zelena's eyes widened. "You'll be King, does that mean I will be a Queen?" she asked with excitement.

Vegeta shook his head with a laugh. "No, but maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you be my footstool," he mocked, easily avoiding the wild swing she sent his way. He was about to oblige her attempts at a clumsy spar when he stopped suddenly, eyes on the doorway of the kitchens. Zelena collided into him with a grunt, and peeked around to see what had caught his attention.

Their Mother stood waiting for them, her face grim and serious. There was something in her face that made Vegeta feel afraid. He had never seen her expression like that. There was an odd smell of salt around her he couldn't place, and under her eyes was slightly tinged with red. He wondered for a moment if perhaps she was wearing some sort of paint he'd seen alien women adorn their faces with. She'd never worn it before. It was puzzling.

"Are you eating with us, Mother?" Zelena asked, her face breaking into a smile. Aglia gave her a simple shake of her head.

"You'll have to eat in your rooms, Zelena. Lettu is waiting for you. Vegeta, you need to come with me," she stated simply. Her cape snapped as she moved suddenly from the doorway to move past them. "Hurry."

Vegeta and Zelena followed after her. They glanced at each other, neither of them had ever seen her so tense, and the anger was almost crackling off of her.

"Is he here so soon?" Vegeta asked, catching on to what must be happening.

Aglia's head inclined in a brief nod. "Lord Frieza's ship made better time than we thought. He will be arriving very shortly."

They made it as far as the throne room doors. Lettu, a giant of a Saiyan with shoulder-length black spikes of hair and a missing eye stood near the doors. As intimidating a brute as he looked, he had a real soft spot for the Princess and had once been one of the King's top guards. Lettu started to bow, and the Queen waved a hand.

She turned and dropped to a crouch in front of Zelena. "You are to go with Lettu and not leave his sight. No matter what happens, you stay with him, do you understand?" she asked sharply.

Zelena stared at her mother almost defiantly, not liking the sudden twist her day had taken. "Do I have to?" she asked.

The Queen's expression softened just for a moment. "This is important, Zelena."

Zelena sighed, "Alright." The Queen stood and gave the girl a strained smile before motioning to Lettu.

Vegeta couldn't help but stand there and watch as Zelena walked away with Lettu. He glanced at his mother wide-eyed as she knelt in front of him.

As her dark eyes met his, he could see the fear and anger simmering there. He swallowed. He had never seen his mother afraid.

"No matter what happens in there, remember this. You are a Saiyan Prince. You are my blood. You have my strength. Nothing can take that away." She said solemnly, her hand touching his face and ruffling his hair so briefly he wasn't even sure it had happened. He felt the lump of emotion in his throat as he watched his mother stand proudly and stride through the doors.

Queen Aglia made brief eye contact with the King as she sat down at his side, motioning for the young Prince to take his seat as well.

Guards lined the walls, the full palace staff of technicians and aids were at the ready.

"Status, Turnipo?" Aglia asked the main aide.

"Everything is in place, Queen Aglia. The halls are cleared, and Lord Frieza will be arriving soon. As soon as we get word, I will go with a squad to meet him and escort him here."

Aglia made eye-contact with the King. "Let the pieces fall where they may."

_#_#_#_#_#_#

As the round space vessel approached its destination, a single figure stood at the round view port on the bridge of the ship, staring at the looming planet.

He swirled the deep red wine in his glass and took another sip before turning his head slightly to acknowledge the being next to him.

"It's rather fitting, wouldn't you say, Zarbon?" Frieza asked conversationally.

Zarbon looked up from the data pad and blinked, as if he'd missed something. "My Lord?" he inquired.

Frieza motioned his hand at the planet growing bigger by the minute. "It's red," he stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing. "It fits such a primitive, bloodthirsty race."

Zarbon's lips curled in amusement, "It does indeed, Lord Frieza."

Frieza turned and walked slowly toward one of the stations where the technicians were hastily making preparations for landing. He peered over their shoulders, looking at the data scrolling across the screens with perceived interest. Whether he was actually interested in the data at all was irrelevant; what mattered was making sure the technicians worked well under pressure. At the moment, many were failing miserably. The smell of nervous sweat was heavy in the air and trembling hands were plentiful.

"You," he stated, stepping behind one of the young mammalian technicians. This one was Saiyanoid, with orange hair. The young soldier pivoted with near military precision. His eyes darted downward towards Frieza before locking on a point across the room. "Yes, Lord Frieza." The soldier enthusiastically snapped a salute with his greeting.

Frieza gave him the once-over. This one didn't seem too nervous, and his armor and uniform were in proper order. Frieza folded his hands behind his back, his tail nonchalantly waving in the air behind him.

"Can you inform me of the approximate temperature planet-side?" Frieza asked, motioning for the young private to turn toward his console. He watched as the soldier's pivot this time was less than precise, hurriedly going through chart after chart.

"At our destination, or on the planet in general, as in the mean temperature?" the Private inquired, a tremble in his voice.

Frieza narrowed his eyes. Did the soldier really just ask that? Did he not make his question clear? He had no need for such stupidity at the helm of his ship. He could get a more intelligent helmsman nearly anywhere really. It was a wonder this one had survived this long.

Without half a glance, Frieza sent a bolt of energy through the Private's shoulder, just under the padding. He made sure the bolt wouldn't hit any of the equipment. That was a bit harder to fix at a moment's notice. There was an agonized moan and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

"Pick that up," Frieza ordered two guards at the door, who scrambled forward to carry out the command. As he walked back to the view port he addressed the room, "I have no tolerance for a smartass that answers my question with a question. Can anyone give me a coherent answer?"

"Approximately two hundred units," Zarbon answered without missing a beat.

Frieza expected that. The other technicians weren't about to risk their own hides, so they sent the data to Zarbon instead. Perhaps he should have an extra formation and discuss the problem of cowardice with his men.

"Shall I inform you if the private survives?" Zarbon asked.

Frieza glanced away from the window in irritation, for a moment not placing who Zarbon was even talking about. "Do whatever with him—as long as he doesn't step foot at my helm." He went back to looking through the view port, his tail lashing behind him.

Zarbon inclined his head, "Yes, Lord Frieza."

Frieza's eyes never left the red orb in front of him. He sneered, "What a dreadful place. The sooner this is over, the better. The Zjarro situation is still far from settled, Dodoria is still in the tank, and now I have to set foot on this sweltering rock and deal with a bunch of backwater monkeys."

"We'll be landing momentarily," Zarbon stated calmly.

"Very well. Prepare my guard. I want to be off this heap as soon as possible."

*#*#*#*#*

Names:

Zelena-South African for a sort of root Vegetable

Turnipo-Turnip

Capso-Capsicum or bell pepper

Aglia-twist on Aglio, Italian for Garlic


End file.
